


Self-Imposed Exile

by Hino



Category: Pyre (Video Game)
Genre: Also implies the Reader freed like 9 of the Nightwings in the rights or however many it was, Gen, I have not played Pyre since it released and I wrote this 2 years ago, Set post revolution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:40:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21645400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hino/pseuds/Hino
Summary: After living out his years in the Sahrian Union, Hedwyn casts himself into the Schlorian once more.
Kudos: 29





	Self-Imposed Exile

It had been Hedwyn, Rukey, and Jodariel’s choice.

The Sahrian government had tried to convince them otherwise, as had the rest of the citizens. Even those whom had been Liberated alongside them insisted they think it through, truly consider the repercussions of their choice.

They had, in fact, thought it through. Jodariel had done everything she set out to do. The war on the Bloodborder was over. Her orphans, many of whom she came back into contact with, were happy and living with their own families. The person she’d loved was now with someone else, and although it pained her, Jodariel was happy to let them go. She’d even handed over the leadership of the Sahrian Union to someone else, confident they could take over.

Rukey’s business had flourished, earning him enough money to live comfortably and to support his mama. His good-for-nothing uncles had backed off, and it had given him the freedom to travel and see the world, as well as hawk his wares to any passersby.

Hedwyn had established himself as a cook, opening a little restaurant with Fikani. It had been hard to manage alongside his leadership duties, but Jodariel had helped him balance his two jobs, almost as well as she balanced her own. Still, even with his liberation, the Reader had weighed on his mind, as it did for all the Liberated Exiles, and with that weight brought the guilt.

It was dark when they set out for the River Sclorian. It had been fenced off, kept away from any civilian who was not authorized to be there, which meant you either needed to file a bunch of paperwork to get near it, or simply find the secret lever at the base of the Sahrian Union Library to get in. Hedwyn had found it with ease, and although it had rusted slightly at the lack of use, he still managed to get it down. The hidden door slid open, and he slipped through, watching as it closed without a sound, leaving him in darkness with only the rushing of the waterfall to guide him.

Hedwyn didn’t need the light though. He’d come here before, at first with Rukey and Jodariel, and then just with Jodi. They’d only taken the bare essentials with them, and now so did he, with his little sack of food, clothes, and trinkets he’d gathered in his years.

He was no longer the young Nomad he’d once been. Time had come for him slowly, and it showed in his greying hair and aching bones. Hedwyn doubted he’d make it down the Sclorian in one piece, but honestly, it felt worth it. He’d lived his life here, done everything he could. He had a family, and despite how Fikani had asked him to stay, she knew he was committed. The Reader, alone down below, had given their freedom to set all the Nightwings free; all the ones they could, anyway. Now, he felt like going back was the best he could do, so they could all live their lives out together.

Fikani honestly had tried to fight with him about the topic. He was selfish, in her eyes, but he merely spoke with a soft voice, telling her that without the Reader, he’d be trapped below. He felt, at least, for failing to free them, he should return. It was misguided, perhaps, but Hedwyn wasn’t one for rational thought, and as he explained it to Fikani, she merely sighed and placed a wing to her head, before helping him pack a bag. They shared a kiss, and a tender embrace, and then he’d set off, and she’d refused to watch him leave.

He didn’t leap into the water immediately. This was the last time he’d be in the Sahrian Union after all, and even though he was in a sealed off passageway with the Sclorian, he could still feel the calmness of the atmosphere, the softness of society. It was something that contrasted against the harshness of the Downside, and it would certainly hurt to leave it behind again. Still, he didn’t stray, taking a breath, the last one he’d take in the Sahrian union, and he held it, stepping into the river.

It was cold, and he almost gasped, but Hedwyn knew better. Instead he merely covered his eyes, trying to keep grasp of his belongings. The Sclorian wasn’t as bad the second time around, but he attributed that to not being forced in and caged. The fall gave him vertigo, and the fleeting memory of the Shimmer-Pool filled him, body flooded with a sense of corruption and wrong, and feeling the Enlightenment he’d once known be washed away with the river.

Being without a cage left Hedwyn in freefall though, and his body twisted and span in the downpour, yet he tried to focus, remembering which way was up and which was down, and not getting lost. If he failed to enter the Sclorian properly, he could break a bone, or worse.

The fall was long, and it left him with time to think about what he was doing. The Sahrian Union was falling away from him, irretrievable, so far out of his grasp that he would never see it again, and yet it was okay. It hurt to leave Fikani behind, as it had all those years ago, but leaving the Reader behind had somehow hurt more.

Before he could think about that though, another hurt washed over him, more intense than his feelings for the Reader, or for Fikani. It was the sensation of plunging headfirst into the base of the Sclorian, where it all began to flow out to sea. The water here was colder, and it knocked the wind out of Hedwyn’s old body, making him gasp and draw in water. Scrambling, he breached the surface, coughing and hacking as he swam to the edge of the Sandfolds, hauling himself up with some difficulty, given his age.

He coughed and spat, trying to empty out the water he’d swallowed in his ungraceful return to the Downside, and found himself with a warm hand on his back, gently rubbing, soothing. Clawed fingers dug into the thin fabric of his shirt, and it made him tense. Hedwyn blinked, and he could see the hooven feet before him, shaky but still standing. 

He wanted to believe the Reader had been alright. That they’d survived unscathed, or as unscathed as one could be. He had an image in his head, of how the Reader looked all those long years ago when they were bright-eyed rebellious adults, ready to overthrow the Commonwealth.

Now, as Hedwyn looked up, he could see the Reader, just as he remembered them, and yet not. Nestled in their robe was the Beyonder Crystal, and atop their head were two curled horns, more impressive than Jodariel’s had ever been. They were taller, broader, and yet as soft and assuring as they had been years ago, when he was the one rescuing them from the Sandfolds.

They spoke, voice deeper than before, but gentle, welcoming him back, although remorsefully.

He softly laughed. “Are the others here?”

A nod, and the Reader stepped aside, showing their new blackwagon, currently occupied by a much-older Jodariel and Rukey.

“We thought you’d be smarter than this,” Rukey laughed, turning into a wheeze after a few moments. Jodariel rubbed his back, while the Reader helped Hedwyn to his feet.

“I always was rather foolish,” came his reply, complete with a smile.

The Reader guided Hedwyn into the blackwagon and they all began to reminisce, speaking of the Sahrian Union, and of the Downside itself. It was bittersweet being here, the four of them, but in their minds, it still felt worth it.

Even if the Reader didn’t agree.


End file.
